Chapter 4: The Woman in the Grey Jacket
I sent the screenshot to the cousin at 1:14 in the morning.
Her name was Dana.
She had been the one to send me the video, and she had answered my message within two minutes, which told me she hadn't been sleeping either.
*Who is the woman in grey?
Far left, behind the flowers.*
Dana's reply came back in under a minute.
*That's Renata.
She's not family.
Mom invited her.
I don't know why.*
*How does your aunt know her?*
*I don't know.
I've never seen her before.
But she arrived with Mom and they sat together at the start, before everyone moved around.*
I stared at the screenshot.
Renata.
Grey jacket.
The small shake of my mother-in-law's head directed straight at her after my daughter's cheek had already been struck.
*Dana,* I typed.
*Did anyone else see the nod?
Before it happened?*
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
*I saw it.
That's why I sent you the video.
I wasn't sure what I was seeing at first.
But then I watched it back and I knew.*
*Would you be willing to say that?
If it came to it?*
The three dots ran for a long time.
*Yes,* she finally wrote.
*She's two years old.
Yes.*
I put the phone down and sat with that for a moment.
Dana was twenty-six.
She lived twenty minutes from my mother-in-law.
Saying yes to that question was not a small thing for her.
I typed back: *Thank you.
Don't delete anything.*
In the morning, my daughter woke up and asked for her yellow cup.
My friend had a yellow cup.
It was not the right shade — too bright, more lemon than butter — but my daughter accepted it after examining it for a moment and said, "Close enough," which was something I had apparently said to her enough times that she had stored it.
I laughed.
It came out wrong, too fast, too close to something else.
My friend looked at me over her coffee.
"Did you sleep?"
"A little."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find out who Renata is," I said.
"And then I'm going to talk to a lawyer."
My friend set her cup down.
"I know someone.
She's good.
She handled my sister's situation."
"How soon can she see me?"
"I'll call at nine."
My phone lit up on the table between us.
My husband's name on the screen.
I watched it ring.
My daughter looked at the phone and then at me.
"Daddy?" she said.
"Not right now, sweetheart."
She nodded, very seriously, and went back to her cup.
He called twice more before nine o'clock.
He sent four messages.
I read them without responding.
The first three were variations of *we need to talk* and *you're making this worse.* The fourth one was different.
*My mother has a medical condition.
She has been under enormous stress.
What happened last night was a symptom, not a choice.
If you go to a lawyer you will destroy this family over something that can be treated.*
I read it twice.
A medical condition.
Enormous stress.
A symptom.
I forwarded it to Dana without comment.
Dana replied with a single word: *Unbelievable.*
Then, at 8:47, a message arrived from a number I didn't recognize.
*My name is Renata.
I was at the dinner last night.
I think we need to speak before you do anything official.
There are things about your husband's family you don't know.
Things that go back much further than last night.*
I showed the screen to my friend.
She read it.
Looked up.
"How did she get your number?"
"I don't know," I said.
May you like
We both looked at the message.
"Are you going to answer her?" my friend asked.
